


Lord of Jealousy

by cowgirldressage1



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Established Relationship, Jealousy, M/M, Makeup Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-12 04:19:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11729361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowgirldressage1/pseuds/cowgirldressage1
Summary: Spock misunderstands a communication and assumes Jim is unfaithful. Their insecurities as well as the depth of their love is revealed to each other.





	Lord of Jealousy

**Author's Note:**

> Star Trek is owned by wealthier folks than I. I make no profit therefrom.

Lord of Jealousy

 

Spock admittedly enjoyed waiting for Jim in his cabin. There was something about the delicious anticipation, the desire, and the illicitness of it that was illogical but exciting. He stalked around Jim’s cabin, running fingertips over Jim’s beloved books, a chest, and a sculpture of Alexander. He paused over the bust; lightly caressing the bronze, imagining it was Jim’s face. He opened Jim’s drawer and let the scent of his clothing, clean and pungent, saturate his senses. Spock sat down in Jim’s desk chair, molded to Jim’s form and touched the computer’s keyboard. It was like touching Jim’s fine boned fingers. Spock sighed.

Jim was due to come off duty in 34.6 minutes and Spock, of course, had prepared himself. He envied his human’s ability to go from work to pleasure in a matter of seconds. A Vulcan’s readiness depended on many things. He needed to be ready mentally and emotionally or the act became merely physical and ultimately unsatisfying. Spock had meditated and explored a certain sensuousness, which set his mind and body down a road, well traveled but also carefully orchestrated each time he and Jim were together. He considered Jim’s needs, his physicality, and his emotional response. Spock’s own response, arousal, and needs had to match in intensity. It was a delicate balance he eagerly anticipated.

Spock chose to stay in his uniform; it added a certain cache to their intimacies. He smoothed his shirt down his lanky torso and shifted in Jim’s chair. His uniform felt tight and constricting but strangely satisfying as his erection pressed against the material. The thought of Jim in his arms was delectable and warmed him despite the relative coolness of Jim’s cabin. 

Spock pushed away any doubt. A true Vulcan might never feel the need he felt for Jim. A Vulcan would never want as Spock did. A Vulcan should never crave the satisfaction Spock felt when holding Jim’s welcoming mind and body in his arms. But he was not a true Vulcan. He desired Jim on such an elemental level, it made him vulnerable and that was both dangerous and attractive.

Jim could simply walk into the room, his scent, his manner, igniting Spock. It had been that way since he first met him on the transporter pad, three years, seven months, and two point six days ago. Spock had yet to create any defenses to him, no matter how he tried. Jim was the wild card in his carefully ordered life, passionate and unpredictable. Spock’s response was necessarily measured, his passion muted for the most part out of fear of harming his lover. There were times and situations that could sling that rock solid control out into space. Constant vigilance was imperative.

 

Suddenly, the computer signaled. Spock tensed. Perhaps Jim had sent him a message, knowing Spock was waiting for him in the cabin. Spock touched a key softly.

A text appeared. Spock read it quickly:

“Saw you with Roma last night. What a great woman! You are one lucky man. Wish you both the best in the future, it looks bright!”

Spock read it again. Then, he read it again. He didn’t understand. Who was Roma? Why would someone send this to Jim? 

He knew there had been a department party last night in Engineering. Jim had begged off on their planned chess game and Spock had spent the night in meditation and rest. Jim said nothing about the party today, but they had been occupied with an off course freighter. 

Who was Roma? He knew the name. Spock logged out and made a quick search of all crewmembers and finally found her. Roma Israel was an engineering assistant, new to the Enterprise, assigned currently to gamma shift. She was a petite brunette with large brown eyes. She was lovely. 

Lovely. Spock was unused to using that term to apply to a woman or any other being, but there it was. It would certainly not describe him.

Spock felt his stomach clench with unfamiliar fear. Jim appreciated feminine beauty. That had been obvious from the moment Spock had met him. It had been a surprise when Jim had reached for him after a difficult away mission. The passion that brought them together and carried them through the present was undeniable though. Still, however much he knew Jim found him to be a satisfactory lover, he was not and never would be anything other than he was, a tall lanky alien who was frequently awkward in many situations.

And Jim had been with her last night. Judging by the text, others had seen him and encouraged him. 

How was this possible? How could Jim be with this woman and he not know about it? Wouldn’t he have suspected something? How far had this relationship gone? Had they made love? Had Jim decided he preferred Roma to Spock? Was he afraid to tell Spock?

The questions twisted and turned in his mind. Everything he believed he knew about Jim, about their relationship was suddenly cast in doubt. Jim was involved with someone else, he had lied to Spock, at least by omission. Everything he had said, every touch, and every intimacy was based on falsehood.

Jim was free to pursue others. No one knew Jim and Spock had begun an intimate relationship. Spock acknowledged that it was kept secret to benefit Jim. If Jim had an open relationship with his First Officer, a male, who was of a different species, it would be fodder for the most inflammatory kind of gossip. Neither wanted that, it would serve no one’s interest.

This, of course, theoretically allowed Jim to have intimacies outside their relationship, although he had assured Spock he was his only lover, in fact the only lover he wanted. They didn’t talk about their relationship, it was simply understood.

Spock never questioned what he actually wanted from the relationship other than physical release and perhaps, companionship. He asked himself if it was enough to just satisfy Jim. Faced with Jim’s betrayal, he realized he wanted more than that. He wanted them grow together, become t’hy’la, like the warrior lovers of old. It was a romantic notion for a Vulcan, but he was allowed. He was only half Vulcan.

Spock looked up abruptly when the cabin door opened with a swish and quickly deleted his search. Jim didn’t exactly bound into the room, but he filled it with his delighted energy, seeing Spock sitting at his desk. His face lit with pleasure and his wide mouth curled in a smile. A smug smile.

Spock pushed his pain down and fought his instinct to rise and greet Jim by pulling him into his arms. He channeled his anger into a quiet fury and blanked his expression.

As Jim came closer, he could see Spock’s shields come up. They were so much more than telepathic shields, they were unbreachable emotional walls. This immediately put Jim on guard. Something was very wrong.

“Hey, what is it? Are you alright?” Jim paused his approach, searching for any clue as to why Spock had shut down.

Spock didn’t move, merely looked up at Jim, eyes cold.

Jim frowned and stepped closer. “Spock? What happened?” 

“Who is Roma?”

Jim stared, his mouth opened and then closed with a snap.

“What are you talking about?”

“Allow me to repeat my inquiry since your memory seems to be having difficulty. I asked you, who is Roma?”

Jim had stopped moving forward, a dangerous glint in his eyes. Spock had just challenged him.

“Why?”

Spock stood slowly, never taking his eyes off of Jim. “I asked you a simple question, will you answer me or not?”

Jim looked at Spock calculatingly. Suddenly, he suspected what this was about.

“Roma is Chekov’s girlfriend.”

Spock frowned, not even attempting to hide his confusion. “Roma is . . . “

In an instant, his mind reached for the facts his jealousy had obstructed and realized the truth. Roma was Chekov’s girlfriend and had been for the last two weeks or so. It had been grist for the gossip mill and Spock had forgotten, so caught up in his own web of suspicion.

Spock looked down at the computer screen and called up the text again. He realized his error with horror. Jim hadn’t received the text; he’d sent it, probably to Chekov.

Spock closed his eyes. In his jealously, not only had he jumped to the wrong conclusion, all but accusing Jim of infidelity, but he questioned his lover’s integrity and honor. It was unforgivable to have caused such offense to someone he held so dear.

Almost as shameful, he had revealed the extent of his anger and humiliation to Jim. Jim now knew the full extent of his attachment, his affection, and his vulnerability. Any defense was moot. Rather than revealing it over time, Jim had just been presented with Spock’s overwhelming need for him.

Faced with such illogical emotionalism, Jim would now turn away from him in horror. Spock had effectively lost him.

Jim stood on the opposite side of the desk and studied the emotions crossing Spock’s face. Spock liked to believe he was unreadable, and perhaps he was to others, but Jim knew differently. He saw anger, humiliation, pain, and grief pass like shadows in Spock’s eyes and part of him clenched in agony. But, damn him, Spock knew better. 

Jim was furious. He trusted Spock with everything he had. Spock had seen him at his best, at his worst and everything in between. If Jim could be this open, why couldn’t Spock trust him? At least ask before openly accusing him of infidelity?

Jim always suspected that the only thing he was good at was being Captain, and he wondered at that, if it was just his hubris or good luck. But he loved Spock. He hadn’t said the words of course; his Vulcan lover might run for the hills. But he thought he’d shown him through endless hours of conversation and chess, and stolen moments of passion. Jim cherished every time Spock dropped his guard and responded to his touch. He understood Spock was holding back but he was determined to win him completely, not as a human or a Vulcan, but as Spock, his lover.

He had been faithful to Spock in ways he hadn’t with others. Now, for Spock, who knew him best, better even than Bones did, to think he would betray him . . . Jim had to ask himself, was there some fatal flaw in him? That no one could get close enough to him to see who he really was? He’d truly believed his stoic, gentle First Officer understood him, deeply, completely. And yet, he didn’t.

 

Spock was humiliated and afraid but he felt sadness radiating from Jim. Spock’s gaze sharpened as he saw Jim’s grief twist within him as though it was his very own. The part of Spock that loved stood tall for a moment with the realization that Jim was bereft. He was needed, he may have failed Jim, he may be exposed, but he had to take away Jim’s pain.

Spock stepped around Jim’s desk, all guards dropped. Jim’s expression was defensive but hopeful. As Spock reached for him, both hands open, Jim took them and pulled him into his arms.

Spock laid his forehead on Jim’s shoulder, breathing in his scent. Jim wrapped his arms around him pulling him closer.

“I only want you, you idiot.”

Spock tensed, hands at Jim’s waist. “I am sorry.”

Jim stroked his hands up and down Spock’s back, noting the warm density of his muscles, the sharp points of his bones. Spock responded by wrapping his arms around his waist, his hands traveling up Jim’s broad back and clutching his shoulders.

Jim pushed them apart and tipped Spock’s chin down so they were eye to eye. “Do you trust me?”

“Two hours ago, I would have said yes. Clearly, through no fault of yours, I must say no. But understand, Jim, my doubts come from my own failings, not any actions of yours.”

“Yet, something within me, something about me made you question this, us. We can’t pretend it never happened.”

Spock looked into Jim’s eyes, knowing he had to be as honest and open as he could be.

“Jim, I believe you, I know I misread the situation, but part of me believes that you would . . . move on if was to your benefit.”

Jim was silent, considering Spock’s words. “You are correct as always. I am a selfish bastard. But you are forgetting something.”

Spock shook his head wordlessly; Jim’s candor took him by surprise.

“You . . . you are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I can’t deny others won’t tempt me, but to lose you over it? It is beyond my imagination. I wouldn’t give you up for the world. When I really do mess up, I hope you remember that and find it in your heart to forgive me.” Jim smiled and tapped Spock’s side where his heart beat.

Spock nodded slowly, feeling his pain beginning to dissipate. He kissed Jim quickly, drawing back to see his response. He wouldn’t have been surprised to see a glint of laughter. He was surprised to see Jim’s expressive eyes filled with affection. He took Jim’s face in his hands and stroked his cheeks with his thumbs, reaching forward and kissing each eyelid with unheard of tenderness.

Jim was overcome. Spock was many things. Intimately, he was responsive, resourceful, surprisingly passionate, but tender? Jim had never plumbed those depths. And yet now, all the affection, the love, Jim had suspected lived below the surface, had risen, exposed finally. Suddenly, Jim felt connected to Spock, like a circuit being completed. He knew, without doubt, he would never willingly give up this man, Vulcan or not, the depths of his emotion paled by comparison to any other being he had ever met. 

Jim literally melted under Spock’s tender caresses. He kept his eyes closed, pressing his cheek to Spock’s, feeling the prickling of his beard, just beginning to appear after their long day. He rubbed against the rough texture, so different from the smooth skin elsewhere on his body. His nose found Spock’s ear, much warmer than his cheek, fragrant with the clean smell he had come to associate with his lover. 

Jim took Spock’s earlobe gently in his teeth and gave it a nip, then trailed his lips up the edge of its shell, to the pointed tip. Jim kissed his way down, giving it an experimental lick, finding the sensitive ear canal. Spock leaned against him, shuddering at the feel of his tongue and moist breath.

Jim would have happily spent much longer tasting and teasing Spock, but his mouth traveled south and found the soft spot on his neck. Jim nipped and kissed Spock’s shoulder, pulling his collar open.

With impatience, Spock pushed Jim away and pulled his tunic and T-shirt over his head, leaving his chest and arms bare. Jim could see his pulse beating at his throat. He buried his face again in Spock’s shoulder licking and chewing a dark green mark on its long bones. Jim’s hands came up his torso with long strokes, running against the grain of his chest hair, fingernails catching his nipples.

Spock gasped, every muscle tight, bringing his hips forward to rut against Jim’s. His fingers were fully extended on Jim’s back and Jim knew he was picking up his lust and desire, doubling it back at him. 

Jim opened the front of Spock’s trousers, and pushed his hands into his shorts. He found what he expected, a hard hot cock, bounding in his hands.

Spock’s knees buckled. Jim fisted him once, twice and then pulled his hands free, grabbing Spock by the shoulders and walking him backward around the partition to his bed. He pushed Spock down and had his boots and pants off in a moment. Jim sat back on his heels for a moment to enjoy the view.

Spock propped himself up on his elbows, chin on his chest and looked up at Jim through his straight bangs. Jim took in his expressive eyes, his generous mouth, glistening as he swiped an apple green tongue across his lips. Jim looked down and admired his deep chest and narrow waist and long legs, spread slightly for balance. He was beautiful in an acutely masculine way.

Self-consciously, Spock began to close his legs. Jim licked his lips, his hands opening Spock completely. Only when Spock’s thighs stopped trembling and Jim was sure, did he look down at Spock’s manhood, completely extended and full. Jim’s gaze took in the two ridges, the pearls of semen at the opening, the two testicles, pulled close to his body. Below them was a sensitive swath of skin, hidden by Spock’s flesh and beyond that, the entrance to his body that promised ecstasy.

Jim rocked off his heels and swung his legs over the bed, quickly stripping off his clothing while  
noting that Spock hadn’t moved, hadn’t closed his legs, and continued to track his movements avidly. This was more than an invitation, it was a surrender.

 

Jim pulled out the lube from his bedside table,  
and opened it slowly, his eyes never leaving Spock’s. He applied the lube liberally, slicking himself. He knew Spock was watching him. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a green blush on his face and chest, growing darker by the minute.

Jim knelt between Spock’s legs, his cock red and glistening. He pulled Spock’s legs over his shoulders and paused, waiting for permission. Spock nodded once and lay down; canting his hips up so Jim was lined up with his entrance. Jim used his hands to find the right angle, feeling Spock flinch away from his cold touch. Well, he’d forget about that soon enough. 

Jim pressed in resolutely, feeling Spock’s muscles expand and contract around him. Spock gasped once in pain and Jim paused for a few moments until he had to proceed. With a quick thrust, he was fully sheathed in Spock’s tight hot grip. His balls bumped against Spock, sending waves of desire through him.

Spock breathed through the pain. Jim began to thrust, short jabs that initially were uncomfortable. Spock found himself transported to a place in his mind where the pain became acute pleasure, sexual certainly, but to be taken like this, to succumb to Jim’s desire, to be its object, fueled his own passion. Like tinder, he ignited.

That was what Jim was waiting for; he felt Spock give. Jim began to thrust deeper, knowing Spock was coming undone beneath him. The stimulation from Spock’s body was incredible but nothing compared to watching him in the throes of passion, gasping cries caught in his throat, his hands opening and closing on Jim’s shoulders, his face flushed, eyes slit.

Jim came. Spock followed suit shortly, Jim’s orgasm triggering his own. Jim pulled out gently and lay on his side, rolling Spock over to face him. Spock was still coming; Jim had learned to wait until the neurological response was finished. The fine tremors that shook Spock’s body finally slowed and stopped. Jim knew it was over when Spock took a heaving breath and it seemed every muscle in his body relaxed.

Jim stroked Spock’s face until he opened his eyes and gazed at Jim vaguely. Jim smiled and blinked away tears. Being with Spock wasn’t easy. It wasn’t just a physical release, it was so much more. To see Spock so vulnerable, so open, awed him. 

“Hey, you.”

“Hmm?” Short of a red alert, Spock would be nonverbal for at least the next hour. Jim enjoyed this part immensely.

“You did great.”

“Hmmm.” Spock’s eyes were beginning to close. 

“You know, I think I love you.”

Jim smiled. Spock’s only reply was a light snore. Ah later for that then.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a rewrite of 'Cuckold', an elderly creaky tale previously posted on K/S Archive many years ago. Please give this story a read and review if you are inclined. BTW, yes, this really happened . . . to me.


End file.
